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PUSSY’S 

A 

PICTURE BOOK 


CONTAINING 


OUR PETS 

A ,, APPLE PIE 

PUNCH AND JUDY 


NURSERY SONGS 
NURSER Y DITTIES 
THE . RAILROAD ABC 


WITH 

THIRTY-SIX PAGES OF COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS 
By Kronheim & Co. 



LONDON & NEW YORK 

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS 
















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* OUR PETS. 


This is Pol-ly’s own cat, Topsy. She looks ve-ry 
prim and quiet ; but if you play with her, you will 
find she is a ve-ry mer-ry litJe cat. She will jump 
up-on the ta-ble at break-fast, and run off with 
Pol-ly s toast; and if mam-ma be wri-ting a let-ter, 
Top-sy will steal soft-ly a-long the arm of the so-fa, 
and rub her paw o-ver the last word mam-ma has 
writ-ten, and make a great blot in the let-ter. 
Some-times she will sit as still as a mouse on Un¬ 
cle Tom’s shoul-der while he is read-ing, and look 
so grave-ly on the book that you might think she 
was read-ing too: but she is not quite wise e-nough 
for that. 

Car-lo is Har-ry’s dog, and a ve-ry good dog he 
is. If you were to throw a stone twen-ty times 
in-to the foam-ing sea, Car-lo would plunge in, with¬ 
out a-ny fear, and bring the ve-ry same stone out 

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OUR PETS. 


to you. And if Har-ry loses his ball a-mong the 
long grass, Car-lo brings it in a mi-nute. And he 
can do bet-ter things than these, for one day in 
win-ter, when the ri-ver was fro-zen, and Har-ry 
was ska-ting on it ve-ry nice-ly, he came to a place 
where the ice was thin, for a hole had been bro-ken 
the day before, and there had not been time for it 
to get hard a-gain. Poor Har-ry broke through 
the ice and sank down in-to the wa-ter; he would 
have been drown-ed, but Car-lo di-ved down, and 
brought him out safe. No won-der Car-lo is a pet. 

These pi-geons be-long to little Pol-ly. They 
have a ve-ry pret-ty house to live in, and Pol-ly feeds 
them e-ve-ry morn-ing with bar-ley or peas. When 
they see her come with her lit-tle bas-ket, they all 
fly down from the roof of the dove-cot, and will 
hop round her, perch on her should-er, and eat 
from her hand. But if they see Top-sy steal-ing 
un-der the Trees, or Car-lo run-ning over the grass- 
plot, a-w r ay they all fly. -The Pi-geons trust Pol-ly, 
but they will not trust sly puss, nor rough Car-lo. 
Pret-ty, shy pets, are Pol-ly’s pi-geons. 





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Rab-bits are pret-ty mild crea-tures. Some¬ 
times they live on moors, where they hide in bur¬ 
rows, which are holes in the ground, then they run 
about the fields and eat the green corn, and tur-nip 
tops, and some-times in win-ter are ve-ry hun-gry. 
But Har-ry’s tame rab-bits have a warm house, and 
plen-ty of clean straw, and fresh food e-ve-ry day, 
and are as well off as rab-bits can be that are in 
pri-son. Har-ry goes in-to the fields to pick clo-ver 
and rib grass for them, the gar-den-er gives him 
let-tuce and cab-bage leaves; and he some-times 
gives them dry corn, for he likes them to have a 
change of food. The large, fine old rab-bit is call-ed 
Bun-ny. She is a great pet. 

You see here Pol-ly and her Pet lamb. The 

mo-ther died in the cold wet wea-ther in spring, 

and the poor lit-tle lamb would have died too, but 

it was brought in-to the house and gi-ven to Pol-ly, 

who fed it with warm milk through the spout of 

her doll’s tea-pot e-ve-ry day, till it grew so big 

that she used to bring it grass to eat. Pol-ly called 

her pet lamb Nan, and there nev-er was such a pet 

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lamb. It fol-low-ed Pol-ly up stairs to the nur-se- 
ry, and down to the school-room, and round the 
fields when she walk-ed out; and Pol-ly said, “ If 
Nan did grow to be a great sheep, she should never 
be kill-ed for mut-ton.” 

Lit-tle Pol-ly went e-ve-ry morn-mg to the 
Poul-try yard to see the Poul-try wo-man feed the 
fowls. Her mam-ma had given her a Cock and a 
Hen, and a fine brood of chickens, to be her own. 
She fed them her-self, and they were al-ways rea-dy 
to come round her when they heard her say, Chuck! 
chuck! Pol-ly was nev-er a-fraid of the fine, bold 
Cock, even when he crow-ed so loud-ly that you 
might have heard him a mile off! He was ve-ry 
fierce if a-ny o-ther cock came near his fa-mi-ly, 
but he was .quite tame with Pol-ly, and bow-ed like 
a gen-tle-man when she gave him his bar-ley. 


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PUNCH AND JUDY 


Ah ! here is our friend Punch and his wife Ju-dy. Punch 
had just been sing-ing his fa-vour-ite song of “ Root-to-to- 
to-too-it! ” walk-ing a-bout and knock-ing his stick, when 
at last he call-ed out, “ Ju-dy! Ju-dy ! ” sev-e-ral times, 
thump-ing on the win-dow sill. Pre-sent-ly Ju-dy pop-ped 
in. “ Bring the ba-by,” said Punch, in a tone which sa-tis- 
fi-ed Ju-dy that he was in high good hu-mour. She pop¬ 
ped out a-gain, and soon re-turn-ed with the pre-ci-ous 
ba-by. “ Oh, is-n’t it a dar-ling! ” said Punch ca-ress- 
ing-ly. “ It was a dar-ling and a duck-o’-di-a-monds! ” 
said Ju-dy, ad-dress-ing her-self to the ba-by. “1 do de¬ 
clare, it is just like its mo-ther,” said Punch, 44 only it is’nt 
quite so hand-some.” “ Oh ! you are a flat - ter-er,” said 
Ju-dy; “you know that e-ve-ry-bo-dy says that it’s the 
ve-ry i-mage of it’s fa-ther.” “ Give it to me,” said Punch, 
“ I’ll nurse the lit-tle dear while you get the din-ner rea-dy. 
There ! go now; I know how to man-age. Do you think 
I can’t nurse a ba-by ? Hah, hah ! ” 

Ju-dy did not half like giv-ing up the ba-by. Men are 
so clum-sy,” she said. But Punch looked so coax-ing, and 
she was so pleas-ed with his com-pli-ment, that she could 
not re-sist. “ Now mind and don’t hurt it, Punch,” said 
she; “ and, for your life, don’t let it fall!” “ Hah! hah !” 
said Punch; “ I hurt a ba-by indeed! Root-to-to-to-too-it! ” 
and on he went march-ing a-bout, danc-ing and hug-ging 
his ba-by in a style that would have fright-en-ed Ju-dy, 
had she been pre-sent. At last he gave it an un-luc-ky 













































































































































































































































































































































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PUNCH AND JUDY. 


toss, and threw it out of the win-dow. “ Oh, dear! oh, 
dear !” said Punch; “ oh, dear ! oh, dear ! Ju-dy ! Ju-dy ! 
Doc-tor ! Doc-tor!” he cri-ed, at the top of his voice. In 
came Ju-dy, in great haste. “ I told you so,” she ex- 
claim-ed, “ I knew you would.” 

In she came, a mo-ment af-ter, with a stick, and laid it 
a-bout Punch’s head. But Punch snatch-ed a-way the 
stick, and gave poor Ju-dy such a blow that she fell down 
dead. “ Oh, dear ! oh, dear P he said. “ Oh, dear ! oh, 

dear! I feel very ill. Doc-tor! Doc-tor! Doc-tor, I 

shall die and he laid him-self down flat up-on the floor. 
In came the Doc-tor, with a slow step and so-lemn air:— 
“ What’s the mat-ter, Mr. Punch! Sit up and let me feel 
your pulse, sir. Yes, you are ve-ry ill, I see; I must 
send you a pill, sir.” “ I shan’t take it,” says Punch. 
“ Oh, but you must, sir ! if you do not, you’ll dieP “I 
don’t care for that,” said Punch, “ I shan’t take it.” “ But 
I in-sist up-on it, sir; you must take it, Mr. Punch.” 

' “ But I wont take it, Mr. Doctor ; you may take it your¬ 
self,” And, jump-ing up, he seiz-ed his stick, and be-la- 
bour-ed the poor Doc-tor at such a rate that he was ve-ry 
glad to run a-way. 

“ Root-to-to-to-too-it!” cried Punch, as he march-ed off 
af-ter set-tling the Doc-tor. Pre-sent-ly, a great knock¬ 
ing at the door w r as heard. “ Who’s there ?” said Punch. 
“ It’s me,” said a gruff voice. “ And who are you ?” said 
Punch. “ O-pen the door, I tell you.” “ I shan’t, I tell 
you,” said Punch. “ Then I’ll break it o-pen.” And in- 
stan-ly the door flew o-pen, and in walk-ed the Bea-dle of 
the Pa-rish. “ Hol-loa! old fel-low,” said Punch; “ who 
are you ? ” “I am the Bea-dle of the Pa-rish.” “ And 
what do you want here?” said Punch. “ I come to take 
you to pri-son.” “ AYhat for ? ” “ For kill-ing your wife, 
sir!” “ I shan’t go.” “ But you must.” “ I tell you, I 

































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































PUNCH AND JUDY. 


wont.” “ But you shall,” said the con-sta-ble, giv-ing him 
a blow with his stick a-cross the head. “ But I shan’t,” 
said Punch, re-turn-ing the com-pli-ment. “ You shall.” 
“ I shan’t.” “ You shall.” “ I shan’t.” And so they went 
on, blow fol-low-ing blow in quick suc-ces-sion, till down 
went the poor con-sta-ble at last, and Punch march-ed 
a-bout in tri-umph with his “ Root-to-to-to-too-it! ” 

Then Jo-ey, the clown, came in to see Punch, and hear 
the news; and Punch told him with great glee, how he 
had set-tied the Bea-dle and the Doc-tor: but he was not 
quite so gay when he came to poor Ju-dy and the ba-by. 
“ I say, friend Punch,” says Jo-ey, “ you’ll swing for this, 
I’m think-ing.” “ No I shan’t,” said Punch. “ You will 
though, old fellow, take my word for it.” “ And you take 
that,” said Punch, aim-ing a blow at Jo-ey’s head. But 
Jo-ey bob-bed down and let the blow pass; then look-ed 
up grin-ning at Punch, with his hands still stuck in his 
pock-ets, as much as to say, “ It’s no use, old boy, you 
can’t hit me, cle-ver as you are.” Punch tried a-gain and 
a-gain, but all in vain; Jo-ey bob-bed and bob-bed so dex- 
te-rous-ly, that Punch could not come near him. Then he 
po-ked at him with his stick, but still to no pur-pose; Jo-ey 
jump-ed a-side so nim-bly that Punch on-ly knock-ed him¬ 
self and his stick a-gainst the wall. 

Punch then call-ed his dog To-by. “ To-by! To-by! ” 
he cried. To-by came trot-ting in. “ Oh! what a pret-ty 
dog!” said Punch; “that’s my dog.” “No it is-n’t,” 
said Jo-ey. “ it’s my dog.” “ I tell you it’s my dog,” said 
Punch. “What non-sense, Punch,” says Jo-ey; “see 
how he’ll come to me :—To-by! To-by! ” in-stant-ly Toby 
went to his old mas-ter. “ That’s a good dog,” says Jo-ey, 
patting him. “ And see how he’ll come to me, now,” said 
Punch. “ Toby ! Toby! come along Toby! ” he said, put¬ 
ting out his hand. “ Bow-wow ! ” said To-by, snap-ping at 



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PUNCH AND JUDY. 


him. Punch drew back, fright-en-ed, while Jo-ey stood 
shak-ing his sides with laugh-ter; “ Poor To-by ! ” said 
Punch, go-ing o-ver to the dog, and try-ing to coax him. 
To-by jump-ed up and caught him by the nose. Punch 
roar-ed out “ Mur-der! mnr-der ! ” while Jo-ey, snatch-ing 
his stick, thump-ed a-way at his head, grin-ning all the 
while. 

Punch was not to be let off as ea-si-ly as he thought, for 
kill-ing his poor wife. One day a dread-ful look-ing man 
came in. “ Hol-loa!” said Punch, “ who are you?” “ I’m 
Jack Ketch, come to hang you for the mur-der of your 
wife.” “ Then, take that,” said Punch, po-king at him 
with his stick. But it was no use; Jack Ketch brought 
out the gal-lows. “ Put your head in here,” said Jack 
Ketch, get-ting his rope in or-der. “ Where ? ” said Punch. 
“ Here,” said Jack Ketch. Punch stoop ed his head, but 
took care to a-void the noose. “That w r ont do,” said Jack 
Ketch; “ more to the right.” Punch went just as far on 
the o-ther side. Then he went too high, then too low, al¬ 
ways ma-na-ging to es-cape the noose. “ You stu-pid fel¬ 
low !” said Jack Ketch. “ Well, you show me how,” said 
Punch, “ I don’t know how to do it, I nev-er was hang-ed 
be-fore!” “Well, there’s some-thing in that, to be sure,” 
said the hang-man, “put your head in here, this way.” 
When Punch saw Jack’s head fair-ly in the noose, he 
nim-bly pul-led the rope tight a-bout his neck, and swung 
him off, shout-ing, “ Hur-rah! hur-rali! Jack Ketch is 
dead; no more hang-ing! Hur-rah! hur-rah! Root-to-to- 
to-too-it! Root-to-to-to-too-it!” 


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The cow jumped oyer the moon; 

The little dog laughed to see such sport, 
And the dish ran after the spoon. 




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NURSERY SONGS. 


Humpty-Dumpty sat on a wall, 
Humpty-Dumpty had a great fall; 

All the king’s horses, and all the king’s 
men, 

Couldn’t set Humpty-Dumpty up again. 


Young lambs to sell, young lambs to 
sell; 

If I had as much money as I could tell, 
I never would cry young lambs to sell, 
Young lambs to sell, young lambs to 
sell, 

I never would cry, young lambs to sell! 




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KUESEEI SONGS. 


Old King Cole 
Was a merry old soul, 

And a merry old soul was he; 

And he called for his pipe 
And he called for his glass, 

And he called for his fiddlers three! 


Little Boy Blue, come blow me your 
horn; 

The sheep’s in the meadow, the cow's 
in the corn. 

Where’s the little boy that looks after 
the sheep ? 

He’s under the haycock, fast asleep. 













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NURSERY SONGS. 


A carrion crow sat on an oak, 

Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do, 
Watching a tailor shape his coat; 

Sing he, sing ho, the old carrion crow, 
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do! 

Wife, bring me my old bent how, 

Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do, 
That I may shoot yon carrion crow; 
Sing he, sing ho, the old carrion crow, 
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do! 

The tailor shot, and he missed his mark, 
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do, 
And shot the miller’s sow right through 
the heart; 

Sing he, sing ho, the old carrion crow, 
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do! 

Wife! oh wife! bring brandy in a spoon; 

Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do, 
For the old miller’s sow is in a swoon; 
Sing he, sing ho, the old carrion crow, 

Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do! 

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NURSERY DITTIES. 


Sing a Song of Sixpence, a pocket fall 
of rye, 

Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a 
pie; 

When the pie was opened, the birds be¬ 
gan to sing: 

Was not that a dainty dish to set before 
a King ? 

The King was in the counting-house, 
counting out his money; 

The Queen was in the parlour, eating 
bread and honey; 

The Maid was in the garden, hanging 
out the clothes, 

By came a blackbird, and snapped off 
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Hark, hark, 

The dogs do bark, 

The beggars are coming to town; 
Some in jags, 

Some in rags, 

And some in velvet gown. 

The Queen of Hearts 
She made some tarts 
All on a summer’s day; 

The Knave of Hearts 
He stole those tarts, 

And took them clean away. 

The King of Hearts 
Call’d for the tarts, 

And beat the Knave full sore; 
The Knave of Hearts 
Brought back the tarts, 

And vow’d he’d steal no more. 




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NUBSEKY DITTIES. 


Ride a cock-horse 
To Banbury Cross, 
To see a fine lady 
Upon a white horse. 
Rings on her fingers, 
Bells on her toes, 

She shall have music 
Wherever she goes. 


See-saw, Margery Daw, 

Jenny shall have a new master; 
She shall have but a penny a day, 
Because she can’t work any faster. 




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NURSERY DITTIES. 


Little Tom Tucker 
Sings for liis supper: 
What shall he eat ? 
White bread and butter. 

How shall he cut it 
Without e’er a knife? 
How can he marry 
Without e’er a wife? 










































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































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